


AMOR FATI

by seoulfulnights



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: 1920s Mafia, Canon Compliant, Childhood Sweethearts, Drug Addiction, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Korea Under Japanese Rule, M/M, Mild Smut, Murder, No Mercy feels, Non-Graphic Violence, Not for the weak of heart, Period-Typical Homophobia, Reincarnation, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Soulmates, Temporary Character Death, World War II, royalty and knights, there is some philosophy out here if you look closely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 15:18:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13766907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seoulfulnights/pseuds/seoulfulnights
Summary: Amor fati (lit. "love of fate") the welcoming of all life's experiences as good, including suffering and loss, which are always necessarily there whether one likes them or not.I cannot explain it. I suppose you’d think I’m crazy if you’d read these thoughts, but I really do believe my soul and your soul are the same.Soulmates AU where you only realize you’re soulmates when the other dies. Hyungwon and Hoseok’s relationship along the seven lives they spent together.





	AMOR FATI

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WaveoftheMind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaveoftheMind/gifts).



> DISCLAIMER and TW: There are at points references to ‘God’ which some might see as offensive, however, I think they were needed in the given contexts and I am not here to discuss religion. Strong themes are tackled such as: homophobia, drug addiction, death, implied suicide, war, murder, violence, toxic relationships. This is dedicated to my very special friend, Bee. Happy birthday deary and I hope you enjoy this! 

 

 

“...and when one of them meets the other half, the actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy and one will not be out of the other's sight, as I may say, even for a moment...”

― Plato,The Symposium

***

 

_Ludus is a game. Tall tales of conquests and flirting, playful or uncommitted, children teasing and dancing, finding themselves within the other, within the game…._

 

...the village was bustling with life even before the sun was properly up shining brightly and coloring the skin of field workers while they took care of their crops early on in the morning. And perhaps it looked like any other normal day for a person passing by in a carriage, but today even the air smelled different. Summer was fast coming to an end much to the children’s chagrin and despair, their daily chores around the household or on the field alongside their pops being replaced with useless arithmetics and reading classes. But not for Hoseok.

Hoseok has gone past the age of being called a child, but even so he’s never afforded to go to the school held in their church’s attic as a benevolence act when the village couldn’t afford building a real one. No, ever since he could carry logs heavier than himself and shove them into scorching fire, he’s been a blacksmith apprentice. And as it is to be expected, he’s never touched a book in his life until the day his heart gave in. For Hoseok has a secret - he’s the only one who knows how to read despite not attending school. And he has an evan bigger one: it’s all thanks to the teacher’s son, Chae Hyungwon.

Being of such poor status, a mere blacksmith boy covered from head to toes in ashes and dirt, no villager allowed their child to play with him when he was young. An orphan abandoned in the woods as a baby, wanted by noone and given to the wild beasts of the forests to feast on - this had been his fate. But God put Hoseok in the blacksmith’s way while the man was chopping wood. And so he’s come to be taken care of by the blacksmith’s lovely wife, a barren woman whose nurturing nature immediately took a shine to the crying infant before her man could provide an explanation for the little human he brought home.

And even now, soon about to have sixteen springs on his belt, Hoseok is still coddled by his adoptive mother every morning before he is to follow the blacksmith into the forge where they make swords for the King’s men. Hoseok loves this woman, truly, deeply. God knows where he’d be without her, given the blacksmith’s less than friendly approach on parenting. And yet, with every kiss on the cheek he receives and with every kind prayer for his well-being he just knows his mother has in mind before going to bed, he’s feeling more and more guilty for bringing such shame into their house.

Hoseok is in love. And he’s in love with another boy.

Perhaps it happened the very second his and Hyungwon’s eyes met, when the educated young sport introduced himself in such a ridiculously formal way, telling Hoseok about how his father was sent here on a mission to make every villager literate. Or maybe it happened along the line of spring days from his boyhood spent in the woods gathering berries, or winter nights by the pale fire still lit in the forge when Hyungwon squeezed his eyes tightly, glasses not helping him read fairy tales to the older boy in the dark. What’s sure is that one Sunday, he and Hyungwon sneaked out of Mass and lazed around in hay, and as he turned his head and glanced at the younger brunet, all Hoseok could think about was how breathtakingly beautiful his friend was despite being a boy. Such a shame he and Hyungwon could never elope and build a life of their own together. He’s sure they could make merry.

“You are an open book, sweetie,” his mother used to tell him back in the day when the blacksmith’s mean comments still had the power to bring him down. “You are an open book, Hoseok,” Hyungwon said that Sunday as well, eyes crinkling with happiness before he rolled over and pressed his lips right on top of the slightly shorter boy’s (the sudden growth spurt Hyungwon was blessed with that summer surprised them both). This was a kiss, Hoseok knew as much. He’d received plenty of kisses from his mother to recognize one but never on the lips - lips were sacred for lovers only, did Hyungwon not realize that?

Oh, the pale boy knew as much and even some on top of it. He knew Hoseok’s heart, listened to the rhythm of its hectic beats, learned how it feels, feels, _feels_ before any rational thought can be conjured in the older’s mind. And so he insisted, pressing his lips harder, leaning in closer until, with some delay, Hoseok began to reciprocate. A kiss turned into two, and two turned into many, and before they could stop themselves Hoseok took Hyungwon like he’d take a woman with the passion of a love-starved lad, diving into the heat of the one he loves with his whole being.

Suddenly, nights were less cold, mornings were less lonely and Hyungwon had the terrible habit to pop everywhere Hoseok was. It turned into a game, an absolute dangerous one at that. They could be shunned, or even killed with stones by the people that saw them grow up, for taking God’s word in vain and committing such evil. And Hoseok was certain the devil was indeed responsible for their senselessness, but how could he abstain from such pleasures when Hyungwon crept into his chamber and gave him that doe-eyed look? How could he not seek the very next day to corner the boy at the shade of their oak tree and kiss him until the sun shied away from their lewdness?

Slowly, he started to abhor the sun, a traitor and a snitch that endangered their love and put them at risk. They were never safe during the day so when Hyungwon appears in the doorway, dressed up nicely with a new white shirt and pants with no grass stains, Hoseok wants to cast him away but instead, he ends up pulling him into his arms with the intention to never let go. “What are you doing here?” he asks, having half the mind to look for signs of his adoptive family being around before pressing his lips on Hyungwon’s still roundish jaw. Hyungwon’s always been so pretty and even though he’s starting to grow into a man like Hoseok did a few years ago, the girlish look still followed him around. Sometimes Hoseok tries to make himself believe that’s the reason he’s acting so mental but he knows deep down that Hyungwon could look uglier than the village’s spinster and he’d still desire their union.

“Well, you said the blacksmith’s out with business. Why not make the most out of it?” the feline grin blooming on that beautiful face makes Hoseok’s hot blood boil in his veins. It doesn’t take a lot of convincing on Hyungwon’s part, he’s got the older weak with just one bat of lashes and a whisper of longing. The white fabric of the starched shirt is soon ruined when Hoseok’s smudgy fingers grip it and pull at it until it’s thrown on the ground, slightly ripped at the seams, while the leather apron the apprentice wears when working with iron falls heavily beside it.

A shiver runs down Hoseok’s spine, warning him of something but he bluntly ignores it in favor of suckling and nibbling at the expanse of Hyungwon’s neck. He’s been locked up in here for days, working on his very first sword and doing the chores he was left in charge with before the master left out of town. There’s no surprise in the enthusiasm Hyungwon displays when he gets down on his knees. The sound of approaching footsteps is covered by wet slurps and groans of pleasure, and when the door flies open Hoseok freezes gripping a fistful of brown locks. It ends up in mayhem.

The blacksmith returned earlier and quickly went to check on the boy he’s strained himself to call a son. The image he is welcomed to nighly gives him a heart attack, his right arm immediately going numb as he stares at the audacity and heresy in front of his eyes. His left one though has all its nerves still functioning as it swiftly grabs a hot iron from the furnace, burning white at its end. A breath is all it takes for Hoseok’s erotic sounds to be replaced by a scream of unbearable pain. Still, he manages to hiss through his teeth at a petrified Hyungwon to run far, far away. The younger boy stares in horror as his lover is branded like a cheap cattle. Another cry of anguish and another barked order gets him disappearing in a cloud of dust, his shaky limbs running without his will.

It is not the first time the man gets violent around his apprentice, and even his saintly wife fell under his robust palm in the past, although her tears have somehow domesticated the beast. Yet in these moments of agony, not even her begging and cries could stop her husband from leaving their boy unconscious on a bed of bloody hay. He takes it all as quiet as one could, if only to give Hyungwon enough time to find a shelter. Barely breathing and with a weak heartbeat, he’s as good as dead. It’s all over now and Hoseok knows it. If only he could see Hyungwon one more time...If only he could...If only…

 

He’s a coward, a coward, a coward! How could he have listened to Hoseok, how could he have left the other there on his own? The blacksmith’s rage, famous among villagers especially if fired up by spirits, could destroy a man and he just walked out on him as though their love meant nothing. As though Hoseok meant nothing. Running as fast as his feet let him, Hyungwon suddenly collapses in the same forest Hoseok was found decades ago, not too far from the forge. A hideous grief strikes him like thunder, his chest burning like he was the one branded by the iron and not his lover. His lover, Hoseok! Hyungwon lets out a mourning wail lacking any sort of human semblance.

Those tormented screams haunt him, engraved in his mind from the moment he was out the door, and now they’re getting louder than before. But Hoseok is not the one screaming, not anymore, not ever again. Hyungwon knows what’s happening - his father, although a learnt man with love of books and of God, told him unbelievable stories of love and perfect unions, of two souls that form just one. He knows that when his mother died, his father suffered next to her deathbed, crying out like he was ripped to pieces by the laceration of her illness.

His own half is gone. Killed by the very man who offered him a life, his death has been served by the one who prevented an imminent one. And Hyungwon? He’s still breathing - if barely. Every bone in his body feels cracked, every muscle torn. His chest feels empty, his soul no longer whole. No, he can’t let Hoseok go. Not alone. Raising up from the ground appears to be a burden too heavy to carry. So he crawls. Deeper into the woods where he knows that surely, they’ll be reunited.

 

***

 

_Love takes many forms and above all, we love ourselves. Philautia is selfish and destructive, it’s arrogance and venom for those who get to taste it, an addictive narcotic that puts you above the gods..._

There are three things Wonho loves in this world. First, being on stage and spilling all of his revolt and repulsion against this shitty world into the microphone, hearing all his fans scream for an encore as he jumps into the crowd and is carried above their heads. Second comes the strip of white powder cut nicely in the van by I.M. before the concert and snorted disgraciously to get over his fear of performing in front of so many people. And last but this probably comes close to second is Hyungwon choking on his cock backstage after yet another nailed show. The classic sex, drugs and rock&roll.

Hyungwon is always so eager to have a cock in his mouth or hand or up his ass. Wonho has never seen somebody so shameless in his entire life, not even in the cheapest brothels he used to visit before hitting fame. Now he didn’t have to pay for sluts anymore, they simply threw themselves at him after every show, little girls trying to fulfil a teenage fantasy of fucking their idol or just desperate uglies craving to have some male attention. And then there was Hyungwon. At first just a pretty groupie with plump lips and smudged eyeliner proposing a wild ride, the boy became an indispensable part of their crew before any of them could have a say in it.

“You’re such a filthy whore,” Wonho groans as he grips silky black locks tighter and thrusts into the other’s mouth, delighted by the wet slurping sounds the brunet makes as he opens up his throat more. God, was Hyungwon good at deepthroating, it was unreal what he could do with that mouth, taking in all of Hoseok’s hard cock like the good slut he is, while giving him that lazy arrogant and uninterested look. It always manages to stir something in the rocker’s chest, a primal urge to destroy and wreak havoc and fuck Hyungwon up in all the wrong ways until he’s left as an incoherent mess on the dirty floor.

There’s a loud pop as the lanky man pulls away from the dick he’s been using like a sucker for the past ten minutes, the red lip balm he uses smeared all around his pretty pretty mouth and the metal piercing his tongue shining in the dim lit closet. “And still, you wanna fuck me more than any other whore who gets on their knees for you, don’t you?” Not so much of a question, but more of a statement, his tone is even, annoyingly so like he’s challenging Wonho in a way that irks him to no ends. Because Hyungwon _knows_ he is right. He knows just how much the vocalist loves bending him over, pushing him against walls or in the back of a car, abusing him until he can’t walk straight for days. And he knows that no matter how many other people Wonho’s gonna sleep with, at the end of the night he’ll crawl back to Hyungwon.

“Just because you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, babe.” This is as close of a compliment as Hyungwon could receive from a rascal like Wonho, but it’s not like their relationship is based on mutual respect or a deep understanding of each other’s feelings. Quite the opposite actually, and while the slightly shorter male would admit he’s smitten for the bitch in front of him, he has no time for feelings when Hyungwon likes to wear leather shorts and combat boots with fishnets underneath just to tease the hell out of him. The pretty boy is clearly looking for it and he’s gonna get it good if Wonho has something to say about it. So as soon as the other raises up, his knees bruised and grazed from the hard concrete, he’s pushed roughly with his face against the wall on which the silver haired singer was leaning until now.

“And you look like a sewage rat with those blue tips, dipshit,” Hyungwon manages to hiss while he struggles to get out of Wonho’s strong grip, but it’s difficult when his hands are held back like he’s a felon caught by the police. Almost ripping down those obnoxious shorts and actually tearing the fishnets, the punker takes his lover without any trace of mercy - he knows Hyungwon likes it rough and messy and that he’s too doped up anyway to feel any remnant of pain. His thrusts are cruel, vicious and absolutely selfish in their chase of that intense pleasure only a combination of three can bring: a show well-done, a healthy amount of coke fucking up his brain, and Hyungwon.

He doesn’t remember if the other boy even came, he doesn’t remember how they left that old mill where their concert was held or how he ended up in his hotel room. All that Wonho can remember in the morning as Kihyun shouts at him about some fuckery is that for a moment there he felt like God - for a moment he _was_ God, and he has to get back there no matter what. “If you need some dicking just go beg Shownu and that cocksucker of his to let you join them,” Wonho groans as he rolls over on his side and searches for his pack of cigarettes, letting out a discontent sound when he couldn’t find it on the nightstand and downright groaning when a rectangular box hits his head. Turning his head around towards where the pack flew from, the rocker sees Hyungwon lounging in the armchair, a cigarette already lit between his red-tinted lips.

“For fuck’s sake, Wonho! Minhyuk _is_ the one who sent me here to talk some fucking sense into you, you and your undeveloped bollocks!” At the mention of their manager’s name and their drummer’s boyfriend (or whatever they call each other), Wonho just rolls his eyes already knowing where this is going and brings the tobacco stick to his lips. “The band is falling apart, we barely book shows anymore and our fans hate us because you keep causing scandals!” Typical, blame it all on the popular member, what a bunch of uncut dicks. The guitarist almost pulls at his pink dyed hair when he notices he’s once again lost Wonho or perhaps never even captured his attention, and despite being the shortest, he can surely throw a heck of a punch when circumstances call for it. And Wonho’s face just so called for a fist.

“The fuck was that for, you skimpy rat?!” Wonho shouts in agony, his fried brain indecisive in which direction to glare - his band member or a laughing Hyungwon who certainly finds the scene all too amusing, that fucker. Kihyun has always been such a pussy in his eyes, not even attempting to find a stage name or get in tune with the message they’re promoting, the pink haired guy never rebelled in his life if you are to ignore running away from home to start a punk band with his friends. He could barely hold his liquor and always ended up falling for the wrong people, especially if their name is Shin Hoseok. It disgusts Wonho beyond borders and his palm itches to push back, maybe crack Kihyun’s skull open and teach him a lesson, but the other’s unshed tears make him hesitate.

“‘Cause you didn’t visit me when I was in the hospital, bastard! I am _done_ with this band, find a new guitarist. I am done with you all, fuckers.” While Wonho tries to remember when the hell Kihyun was hospitalized in the first place, Hyungwon comes from behind him and wraps those bony arms around his waist, both of them deaf to the sound of a door smashing. Hyungwon’s body is so cold against Wonho’s heated one and it makes him feel sick, almost as sick as the craving to possess the other, again and again and again until they’re both so fucked out of it. A little bag of white sugar - like he calls his addiction in one of their hits - dangled in front of his eyes tells him Hyungwon is on the very same page and they’re quick to split the drugs before making use of every flat surface the hotel room has to offer.

And once more, Wonho feels like God, like he is above all and everyone and only he possesses this true power. However, something keeps holding him down, bringing him back to where he belongs and reminding him that after all he’s just a mere human. “Hoseok,” Hyungwon’s moan as he rides Wonho dismantles the illusion of floating above the world and he crashes back into the hard mattress, suddenly hyper-aware of just where and who he actually is. Shin Hoseok, vocalist of the punk band X-Hero, recently deprived of a guitarist and with a concerningly declining popularity due to the latest scandals in the press - all caused by Hoseok, by Wonho himself. Taken over by a sudden inexplicable rage, the silver haired rolls them over and starts fucking into Hyungwon harshly, dismissing all his painful cries and begs to stop.

“Shut up,” he barks out, hand grabbing the other’s throat and thumb pressing roughly against the prominent Adam’s apple. Those scandals, each one of them, were actually Hyungwon’s sole fault. It was his damn fault that Wonho lost control, that he became so violent as to pick up fights with paparazzi, fans, random people on the street who dared to look at them when they passed, and even their members. Earlier - earlier when? It feels like thousands of years ago already - Kihyun punched him in the face for the first time. However, Wonho is no stranger to being on the other side, already having a couple of rounds on his back with the pink haired, their bassist I.M. and even Shownu, the one he founded this garbage band with and whom he still considered a best friend.

At first, it was all about music and speaking up on the issues that bothered them most. Wonho remembers spending his entire teenagehood writing and writing and writing dozens of notebooks filled with lyrics of anguish. And then one day, Shownu was practising with his new drum set and Hoseok felt the urge to shout out what was eating him up alive. “Ah, it almost sounds like a song,” Shownu had said and so X-Hero was born. They found Kihyun in his school uniform a month later, all prepped up but checking the newly arrived David Bowie vinyl. All it took to convert him to their rebellious views was a playful kiss and charming smirk from Hoseok.

The guitarist brought I.M. later to one of their garage jams and although the boy was barely 14 back then, his fingers glazed so smoothly over the bass they could not afford to miss the chance. A few months later, their first single _Fighter_ was out, earning them a spot among the most popular local bands and catching one Lee Minhyuk’s attention. After Minhyuk took over as their manager (agreeing to be paid in services by the drummer until they start winning legit money), their ranking skyrocketed and they had studios booked for recordings in no time. Ranking brought sales, sales brought fame, fame brought fans and money. And suddenly X-Hero found themselves assaulted by groupies thirsty for their dicks, Wonho being the main victim out of all in this concern.

Concerts, parties, lots of sex. It was all fun and games for a while and none of them could imagine their lives ever going back to normal. And then he met Hyungwon, the first of many mistakes Wonho has made. He remembers being mesmerized by that empty look, by those plump lips, by the shocking outfit stollen in part from female-oriented stores. Their relationship became a well-known secret among their fans, a shadow harming even their black sheep image. But Hyungwon never comes alone and where there’s Hyungwon there are drugs and trouble. By the time the brunet entered their lives, X-Hero was no stranger to recreational drugs, yet the first line slashed by Wonho’s catch offered them a clear demonstration of just how much ecstasy they could experience. However, the higher they are, the harder the fall and so they never talked about that night again, swearing not to try something of Hyungwon’s ever again.

Sadly, Wonho was already addicted. First by that enchanting being lying underneath him this very moment and calling out his name, second by all the gifts Hyungwon brings him and the pleasure that comes with them, the quiet moments when life would take a step back. He is so caught up in this net of misleading illusions, he barely notices Hyungwon’s hands stop trying to push him back or that the tears ceased for good while the younger’s mouth is stuck in a silent scream. “Hyungwon?” he asks when the only sounds he can hear are his own, but he receives no answer. Except, he does. And the answer washes over him in waves of overwhelming pain and misery, crushing all his hopes and ruining his life drop by drop, initially with images of loving days then with glimpses of unfulfilled dreams and wishes.

Hyungwon. Hyungwon is always so beautiful, even now lying lifelessly in his arms. His Hyungwon, his beautiful Hyungwon - he never told him how beautiful he is and only ever called him degrading names. But the fucker knew, he knew what he was doing to Hoseok all along and how far he was pushing his limits until there was nothing left of Hoseok, and Wonho...Wonho grew into a monster no mirror could reflect. Long ago when they weren’t as destructive and toxic to each other like the shit they both smoked and when he was far more sober, Wonho asked Hyungwon what he plans to do with his life or if he’s always going to fuck around like this. “Why does it matter? I will die before I turn 21,” the brunet shrugged and Wonho wishes his words weren’t this prophetic.

His death was meant to happen. He can believe that. But so is Wonho’s after all, why else would they be pulled apart? The pain of losing half his soul awakens something that’s been latent in him for too much time, a conscious self-aware of what he’s supposed to do to make things right. But now...now it’s too late and Wonho already feels himself craving another line. Maybe this one will help him join Hyungwon and leave this mess behind. Minhyuk is responsible to solve the mess they create after all.

 

***

 

_The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, and philia is born out of that bond. The hardships, the tragedy, they bring us together and make us love the one closest to us in those times..._

 

...the thick smell of rusty iron almost overtakes the filth of rotting corpses spread across the ground where a grenade was thrown - by whose side it’s unclear, both uniforms being stepped upon as soldiers scatter across the field. The sound of riffles and war machines is deafening, each boom resounding in Hyungwon’s head with great magnitude. Still, in this grand cacophony of carnage and butchery - because this is what they are at core, animals sent to be killed by an almighty butcher - he hears a scream of agony a few good feet away that must belong to lance-corporal Wono.

And that’s the last thing before he stops hearing altogether and collapses on the ground in pain. He barely notices the spot where another mine went off, the only hint of such thing happening being bloody limbs and pieces of what was once a human body littering around the area. It’s atrocious, seeing a person be turned into nothing but ripped flesh and if the traumatic shock hadn’t numbed Hyungwon’s brain and paralyzed his body momentarily then he’d probably be screaming in horror. There’s a moment of vivid clarity, a second between having his life flash before his eyes and utter darkness, where his eyes shift away from all the gore and focus instead on the other Korean man, lying motionless across from him.

The first time he saw Wono was in the Imperial Japanese Army Academy where the older was considered one of the top cadets - perhaps the only one to actually have a chance and not be turned into a bullet eater as soon as he stepped on the battlefield. He was a bright student and his shape stirred envy among nipons, while every Korean bragged about being friends with him. That, of course, is not true, because Wono didn’t have any friends, solely focused on his training and being the best. Hyungwon often wondered how could somebody push themselves to such extreme limits, neglect any human needs whatsoever and concentrate on his goals with such admirable stubbornness. Very few knew something about Wono’s real personality behind the adopted Japanese name and Hyungwon doubts what they knew was even real, the endless string of rumors regarding the older appeared to be quite ridiculous.

Later on he found out Wono arrived here before 1944, which means - as everybody knows - that he enrolled voluntarily, unlike the huge wave of con-nationals sent after him like sheep to slaughter. Hyungwon is one such sheep, although his father tried to enroll him before, hoping his eldest son would become a man. He, of course, failed with flying colors due to his frail condition while his brother passed and was located at the moment on the battlefield. Hopefully in one piece. The Academy is no place for Hyungwon and he’s learned that early on when the older cadets welcomed him with hushed whispers and questioning if the Japanese offered them now ‘comfort men’ now in exchange for taking their women at home. Some didn’t seem too bothered by the idea though more than a few faces twisted up in disgust.

However, the lanky young man did not let such words get to him, he’s heard enough of them from his father to become immune to any mockery regarding his emasculated looks or behavior. Hyungwon is simply not like his brother, all brow and tenacious silence filled with indifference, rather he completes his sibling where he lacks in sensitivity and a very perceptive intuition. That very intuition made him feel closer to Wono than to any other man around due to carrying the burden of a shameful secret. After all, it takes one to recognize one and the other soldier was _definitely_ one as well. Luck had it that no sooner than half a year from his arrival, _duty_ required them to be set out on the front sometime at the beginning of August and Hyungwon was placed in the same company as Wono, all lead by some lower rank nipon.

As one of the best Lance-Corporal, Wono was, of course, put first in line. But his blood was just as Japanese as Hyungwon’s - meaning not at all - which in battle translates to him being assigned as yet another human shield. The younger brunet had his guesses about the title made up of two highly descriptive words until now, it synthesized their role perfectly as mere pawns in the game and how their lives valued virtually nothing to others who deem themselves superior by nature.

Unfortunately, his doubts were confirmed the very moment they were given arms and he could approximate that  their weight was about as heavy as the unloaded ones they used for training. In other words, they were left stranded without any sort of ammo and just their bodies to protect themselves against the Allies. Not like any sort of training so far would be of any aid or like carrying guns could miraculously help him face a mine blowing off. There was panic all around him, Hyungwon himself had been trembling in fear until his body touched the ground. But now, he felt at ease as his last conversation with his brother replays in his mind. “Don’t die a coward.”

Hyungwon wakes up a few days later but it could just as well be a few months later, bandaged and in acute pain on a ripped gurney in the infirmary. His head is spinning, running in circles around unknown voices hushing around him but his eyelids feel too heavy to open. Mornings were never his thing, does he really have to get up and announce he’s not actually dead? Or perhaps he is but he’s not aware of it yet, he can’t know for sure, it’d be the first time he died. “Private Chae,” he hears a firm voice calling with all the authority a wounded man can muster. Damn, there goes his sleep. He can’t ignore a superior’s call so he turns his head towards the other.

“Corporal Shin,” he tries raising his hand in salute but a sharp sting in his right shoulder makes him wince half way before Wono stops him. Neither of them says anything for a long while afterwards and Hyungwon takes this opportunity to really look at Wono, take in the face of a tired man he could not observe from rushed and discreet gazes. But he can still notice that there’s something different about the older besides the shoulder immobilizer and the bloody bind wrapped around his hip. His shoulders are not tense for once and there’s also a certain victorious air around him, but Hyungwon doesn’t dare hope for good news.

“You’ve been on the front for less than an hour and slept through the rest of the war. That’s quite a story to tell when you get home, isn’t it?” Wono opens his mouth again, his lips curled up slightly in a smirk. That too is surprising, considering Hyungwon’s only seen a blank expression cross the black haired’s handsome face until now. His awestruck look must have been taken as confusion and not simple admiration for the other’s beauty, since Wono is quick to explain himself and fill Hyungwon on what he’s missed these past days. “The Allies dropped an explosive at Hiroshima, I’ve heard people call it a nuclear bomb. Point is it’s almost a sure thing that it’s over.”

 _It’s over._ Hyungwon takes his time to process the depth of those words, the meaning not quite reaching any synapses. In his twenty-something years spent on this earth, never did he imagine that the Empire will be defeated or that they’ll be able to carry their lives in peace.  Does this mean they can go back to Korea? No more massacres hovering above them and waiting for their heads to roll down? And what will happen from now on? There are so many questions popping up in his head his grey matter feels airy like popcorn - or maybe it’s the lack of nutrients during his comatose state. Wono once more seems to read his mind as he hands Hyungwon a loaf of bread. It has a little mold on top and his teeth hurt when he takes a bite, but it’s not the worst thing he ate lately.

“Do you think you can run?” Wono suddenly asks, voice barely above a whisper. Hyungwon watches him confused for a second as the older man gets up slowly, his discomfort evident in the grimace of his face. Run? Yes, he could do that, although his mind is still drowsy and he sees no reason to do so when all he wants right now is to go back to sleep. But Wono is already at the entrance of the tent, peeking outside to check for Japanese guards before signaling Hyungwon to follow. And then, once they leave the infirmary, they don’t stop running for days despite their spines breaking under pressure and their wounds opening up. The very real threat of being killed by the Japanese army for their origins pumps adrenaline in their blood all the way to Fukuoka where the world seems to end.

A thick cloud of dust and toxins raises up like a tree as the ground is shaking to its core and Wono has to cling onto Hyungwon’s skinny frame for support, his leg giving in. Weeks later, after they successfully crossed the Sea of Japan in a boat and sought refuge in Busan, they’re informed they were witnesses of ‘Fat Man’ dropping over Nagasaki. Yet all Hyungwon can seem to think about is the lingering feeling of Wono’s fingers intertwined with his own. The way the corporal cried in his sleep. The little secrets they shared in the privacy of the wide ocean. All these small details were sewed forever on Hyungwon’s soul with a golden thread to resemble Wono's own heart. The rest of Wono's story he finds out later while the newly enforced authorities check their backgrounds thoroughly to make sure they’re not actually nippons in disguise.

That’s how he discovers Wono's real name, not the one given by the Imperial Army, and he much rather prefers this Shin Hoseok, the 26 year old man from Pyongyang who enlisted in order to provide for his mother. Such a striking image to the overachiever all cadets gossiped about in Academy, the player and cold-hearted tyrant who refused to talk with any of them because he was just too arrogant. However, there’s not even a drop of malevolent intentions in his whole body and perhaps the short time they spent together were the happiest days in Hyungwon’s entire life. They spend a few more weeks in Busan, living in a shelter and being forced to share a bed due to limited space, but neither of them mind - Hoseok is much more affectionate in his skinship than his bulky built suggests, always wrapping up around Hyungwon and holding him close at his chest.

Days are full of laughter and happiness in the newly installed peace, their little income given as compensation for the trauma they experienced allowing them to indulge in small luxuries like coffee or the occasional movie. Nights are made up of quiet sobs and desperate embraces accompanied by encouraging whispers and words of support. In those moments, Hyungwon felt complete, he felt understood and it seemed like everything fell into the right place and it would be alright. So it’s even more of a pity when Hoseok announces him with a serene smile that he decided to go back to Pyongyang, back to his mother to look after her. Hyungwon returns the older’s smile with a bittersweet one, unable to relate to the former corporal’s devotion for his family - he himself feels like he has no family since his brother was not among the few Korean survivors.

With one more hug and a promise to visit each other soon and write letters whenever possible, Hoseok embarks in the first train unaware this would be the last time he meets Hyungwon. The political context becomes more tense as the division between North and South slowly gets more pronounced until they’re turned upside down, a reverse mirror for one another.  The younger still tries to keep his promise though, he attempts to find a way to go see his friend and writes a few lines for him every day only for his letters to be returned to his own address. Hyungwon doesn’t understand how the Allies appear to have simply replaced the Japanese occupation and dared to split a country in half without considering the people’s view. They were no different from the previous invaders and it frustrated him to no ends when even the postman started to refuse his letters

But Hyungwon doesn’t stop writing.

He tells Hoseok all about how he got a job at a convenience store and befriended a very cheerful boy called Minhyuk, who’s the son of the owners and who appears to understand him in certain aspects. He tells him about his first boyfriend, Yoonho, and how in love he is with the cute boy with whom he shares a living place, how he wishes Hoseok was there to meet him in person. ‘ _He’s such a sweetheart, you’d love him for sure._ ’ Later on, he also confesses about their breakup and how in reality he never felt something as strong as his bond with Hoseok, no matter how many men he dates. ‘ _I cannot explain it. I suppose you’d think I’m crazy if you’d read these thoughts, but I really do believe my soul and your soul are the same._ ’

Hoseok, in turn, suffered just as much from their separation. He wished so many times to just go back South and actually confess to Hyungwon, be open about how he fell in love with him on that boat or while watching Nagasaki succumb to ashes, or perhaps even earlier in the Academy despite never saying a word to each other. Yet the new regime is strict regarding travelling, always bringing up the pretext of protecting its citizens from the danger that corrupted the South in the shape of Americans. Attempting to reach Hyungwon became tiring and dangerous given he’s kept his military grade and even got promoted to major. And at a point, he couldn’t fight his mother anymore and accepted to marry one of the nice girls she suggested.

Months pass without any news from Hyungwon and they turn into years and years turn into a decade. His life is, truthfully, as good as it could get. He’s got a secure job, climbing up to the grade of colonel and raising two healthy children together with a beautiful woman who cooks for him and takes care of the house. As an insider of sorts, he knows that life can’t get better than this. Not in North Korea. But his mind still wanders South and the image of Hyungwon is just as alive in his mind, their connection unbreakable by anything thrown between them. One night though, he knows for sure. His chest aches with such sorrow he’s unable to stop the tears no matter how many times his wife, woken up by the strange reaction, tells him he’s safe and home.

“It’s the war again, isn’t it? You’re safe, Hoseok, you’re with me and the kids.” But she doesn’t get it, although she knows the nightmares eventually subdued and he barely dreams stepping on mine fields anymore. Now his heart is full of Hyungwon, of desperation and longing and nostalgia, of regret. He could have been happy, truly complete and happy if he just stayed back then with Hyungwon in Busan. Seohyun makes him rest his head on her chest and strokes his hair lovingly the same way she did when his mother died last year.

“It’s about that Hyungwon then?” Her question makes his blood freeze in place and suddenly the rush of memories is even more violent until all he sees, all he feels is Hyungwon and no matter how much he tried not to think of him when his wife is around, he pictures the other brunet’s arms wrapped around him. “Why don’t you tell me about him?”

 

“Alright…”

 

***

 

_Agape is sacrifice. A love as pure as light itself, one must let go of all that makes his whole being and give it to the other, protect him, support him, and love him endlessly..._

...castles, princesses and adventures. These were the things little Hoseok had in mind when his father told him he would become a knight one day. He’d ask his grandmother to tell him stories of brave heroes fighting dragons and becoming kings of great lands and she’d do so by the chimney while spinning wool. And Hoseok would sit on the wooden floor, holding their poor old tomcat tightly and hiding his face in its mazy fur whenever his nana would suddenly lean in towards him and imitate the sounds of the fire-breathing creature.

Those days disappeared as soon as he was turned into a page, his very own wood sword glued to a still trembling hand and tongue bitten harshly between his teeth so his lisp won’t make his life unnecessarily harder. By the time he was made a squire, all childish dreams were replaced with realistic yet arrogant goals - a spot in their lord’s protection squad and perhaps becoming his right hand one day. He would have aspired even higher, aiming for the land itself were it not for the heir of the dukedom to be male. Hoseok trained hard and even read some when his muscles were screaming for a rest, the fairy tales his grandmother knew by heart shifting into history books and war tactics. And finally, he was chosen.

The day he was knighted and turned from a poor squire into one of the prince’s men changed Hoseok’s life entirely. He remembers it vividly now, seven years later as he patrols the corridors of their great castle paying close attention to any small detail that could signal the presence of intruders. A hefty lad of only twenty-one, it had been the first time he had ever seen the duke and his eldest son. Back then the prince was at the age Hoseok himself became a squire, but the pretty boy would never know such hardships. From his delicate profile to his feminine fingers - he later found out about the prince’s passion for the piano - the last thing one could dream of about such a chap is him holding a sword.

Yet, that frail image remained stuck in the knight’s head. It was the only one he had of the prince so far. Somehow, despite being part of his royal protection guard, he never even caught a glance of that rumored ethereal beauty, which inspired their dukedom’s greatest poets. Some knights were luckier than him in this aspect - he overheard Kihyun of the house Yoo saying that while the prince was absolutely hopeless with steel, he could handle other types of swords just fine. Months later Hyunwoo of the house Son fed the rumor that their prince was more of a princess in the sack but this time Hoseok could not just sit by and watch the other knights have a laugh about polishing their sword in the royal chamber. And thus a duel ensued between the two strongest warriors of the protection squad. It’s perhaps the stupidest thing Hoseok had done in his life, it could cost his status for attacking a superior or even his life if Hyunwoo struck back like he meant it.

Thankfully, before any serious blood could be shed the prince himself appeared in the courtyard and demanded an explanation of such ruthless behaviour. The knights dropped their weapons in an instant, armors scratched and breaths uneven, a little red flowing down Hoseok’s cheek from a small cut. “Your Highness,” Hyunwoo already dropped to one knee in front of his lord. Hoseok was a second too late to do the same, awed by the prince’s stunning presence. Indeed, no poet could do his fairness justice. Hyungwon nodded in acknowledgement, passing through the crowd of lookie-loos and stepping closer to the knight who risked a lot to defend his honour.

“I don’t know what this is about,” he started slowly, voice soft but not lacking firmness in the least as he looked all his men in the eye. “But if any of you ever indulge in such unrequited combat, your swords are not the only ones dropping to the ground.” His eyes finally stopped on Hoseok, taking in the dishevelled look of the Shin knight. Hyungwon’s face was unreadable, a formidable skill to have perfect at such a young age. But there was a familiarity behind the odd look he’s giving the older, the slight twitch of an eyebrow, the way his lips turned into a thin line, how his eyes narrow slightly - Hoseok noticed it all.

As though he recognized the one in front of him but couldn’t quite pinpoint from where, as if he should know the man in front of him and yet he didn’t, Hyungwon lingered more than would be considered proper. But he wasn’t a proper prince now, was he? Hyungwon shrugged off the strange moment and the lunacy of his heartbeat picking up like a spindle. His guard for the week, the last knight to join and a pretty stoic lad at that, followed him on his way out and on to a meeting with the duke - another one of those meant to settle his future bride. It was frustrating, a nuisance, but it would be more than inappropriate to tell his father he’d rather marry any of his knights than share a bed with a woman.

Yet, an heir cannot deny his duty nor neglect it and not long before Hyungwon could welcome his 20th winter, he found himself waiting down the aisle for his wife. The daughter of a rich boyar with a beauty to match her lord, clad in the softest of silks and resembling an angel with her virgin white dress. Hoseok watched the ceremony from aside, next to Son and Yoo and their youngest sport Lim, united in their longing for the prince and already mourning the loss of a warm bed. Shin wanted to wipe the floor with them, but he couldn’t afford to cause a scene in a church of all places and at a wedding too, so he holds back remembering the prince’s warning.

The feast thrown by the duke to celebrate his son’s marriage would certainly go down in the history of their little land, if not for splurging on the most exotic delicacies, then undoubtedly for the murder of their lord. Nobody would have seen it coming, how the duke simply dropped dead, his face smashed against the plate it hit after gulping down his cup of wine. Chaos erupted in the blink of an eye. The newlyweds were quickly moved by Hoseok to a secure location, the knight running to Hyungwon’s side without a second thought, while Son Hyunwoo was left in charge to take care of the mess. The bride looked absolutely petrified even when they were joined by her own guards, two men from the house of Lee and both with striking blonde hair.

Hours later, the circumstances became even more obvious - somebody betrayed the house of Chae to destabilize the dukedom and easily overtake it. However, finding the name of the traitor was no easy task. Being rich in resources and with a dynasty of well-educated men handling large exports, the prosperity of the land is much craved and just as much in danger were it to fall into unprepared hands. Naming Hyungwon the new duke of the land was of unpreceded urgency, the shortest ceremony of this kind in the recent history, as well as the most guarded one. Many tried to come up with their own theory of who plotted such a dastardly death and fingers have been pointed towards their beloved prince, but nobody could voice such accusations while still in mourning.

Perhaps Hoseok is more observant when it comes to the younger man, but he’d put his life at stake once more to defend the other’s honor. He knows just how little the current duke awaited for his inheritance (and even less so for this marriage) and he couldn’t turn a blind eye on all the things that have changed since the first day the new duchess arrived at court. It started with her men patrolling the castle as they pleased and acting in such a neglectful way of their morals and ethics. For Hoseok, even the stable boys had more class than those butterheads. And then one by one, the ladies of the court have been replaced - all with maids chosen by the duchess herself. The juncture became worrisome when the old duke’s advisors started to disappear little by little in the middle of the night, no one finding their tracks even today. Hoseok is not an idiot, he’s connected the dots before she started to show more interest in the council meetings than the duke of Chae.

Things have taken a turn for the worst when mumbles of Hyungwon’s adultery and sodomy started circulating across the land, nobles and peasants alike shaking their heads and damning their lord for indulging into unseemly acts while praising the duchess for enduring such shame! If only they knew, Hoseok scoffs as he passes by one of the Lee men again on the corridor. He’s heard more than enough about how the lady arches her back majestically to know she’s far from pure or innocent. And the duke of Chae has too. Hoseok will never forget the talk he had with Hyungwon months ago when news of the duchess being heavy spread like wildfire.

“Married for two years and we have never spent the night in the same chamber,” the duke whispered bitterly. The knight remained quiet, not wishing to upset his lord - it was not his place to comment. It was only them on one of the castle’s balconies, admiring the Leonids splashed across the night sky like the graceful man requested they do. A beautiful sight indeed, but Hoseok could barely look away from his own sun to admire another celestial body. The younger one was shivering, his light fur coat not helping against the promise of a spiteful winter. “I know what they say about me, I know why you’ve fought Son years ago too,” Hyungwon continued, eyes still cast above. “Do not be fooled by my actions, I am not as oblivious as I appear to be.” A shaky breath. “I know they all wish for my demise, but I want to live. And that’s why you are here, Shin. You’re the only man I can trust with my life.”

Silence. The stars kept shining brightly like Hoseok’s world hadn’t just been shaken to the core, like his lord hadn’t just entrusted him with the most valuable and honorable of tasks. Like the one he was in love with wasn’t staring back at him with a certain fondness. Shin bent the knee and put his sword forward, like he did in front of Hyungwon’s father on his knighting day and like he did in front of Hyungwon himself when the heir took over the dukedom. “I swear, my lord, I will protect you with the cost of my life and may I perish in the worst of ways if I ever serve you wrong.”

And from then on, the knight spent his nights in Hyungwon’s chambers, a place many longed to visit, however, his lust for the young lord subsided into pure devotion. Sometimes he wondered if his childhood dreams of becoming a hero and saving princesses from dragon bites were being fulfilled. They must be, Hoseok concludes as he realizes how content he is just from being by the duke’s side, night after night spent in utter silence while the elegant noble slept in his feather-bed. But such reverie comes to a halt abruptly as a sense of danger spears through his chest. Something is not right. His chest is burning and his head is aching to the point tears are sliding down high cheekbones, an incommensurable pain overtaking all his senses until it disappears completely in a black cloud. He doesn’t know how long he’s been out of it, or why he even fell ill in the first place. But he knows this is about Hyungwon.

Breaking into a sprint, Shin hurries to reach the duke’s room supposedly guarded by Yoo and Son only to find his fellow knight’s corpses leaning against the doors and heads barely clinging to their cut gullets. The duchess closest knights from the house of Lee were standing but a few feet away, their morbid grins making Hoseok sick to the stomach. “See? I told you Jooheon, murderers and traitors always come back because guilt eats them up alive,” the chatty one mocks with a knowing smirk.

“What have you done?” the shout stops somewhere in Hoseok’s throat, words coming out as a whisper while he pushes past the two blonds and opens the doors wide. Not a thing is moved out of its place, everything in perfect order as he’s last seen it in the morning but the flicker of a candle reveals his greatest nightmare. There, on his feather-bed in his silky robes, Hyungwon is sleeping peacefully in a bath of blood, the red seeping into the sheets painting a beautiful rose much like the one on their banner. “What have you done?!” he asks louder, trembling legs collapsing on the concrete floor.

His pain returns, tenfold until he cries for mercy in front of a faceless God, mercy for the one he loves with his whole heart. For the one he’s dedicated half of his life to. For the one still so incredibly beautiful as he’s turning cold. There are still so many things to tell the younger, so many things to show him, so many confessions to pour. He remembers now, he remembers their oak tree and the fairy tales so alike the one his own nana read. He remembers the kisses and burning iron on his skin and the wish to protect Hyungwon at all costs that has persisted still. Did Hyungwon remember too?

 

“I think it’s time the duchess finds out of her beloved husband’s early death. And to think he was killed in cold blood by his own lover. And he even died smiling…”

 

***

 

_Storge  is unconditional, like the love a parent carries for their child. At the end of the day, when we return home all we wish for is somebody to hold us in their arms and never let go. We want to go back to when it was easy..._

 

...at the age of 45, Chae Hyungwon thought he’d lived a meaningful life and that there’s nothing left for him to enjoy or discover. He was privileged from childhood to receive a solid education while his family encouraged him to follow his artistic call, proud to have a writer among their own. He made a living out of his own hard work, affording to hire the best engineers to project his house and the most talented artists to decorate it. He married a beautiful girl that his mother found for him without putting up any fights as not to upset her and even gifted her a granddaughter a few years later.

And after almost two decades spent together, his wife left him and their daughter Soojung alone in this world once she was done battling her disease and couldn’t take it anymore (malicious people in their quiet town say her husband is actually the one responsible for turning her heart blue). His marriage with Sooyoung has invariably been considered strictly business - he had no time for such foolishness like love even at such an advanced age, but her death still brought a sense of glumness over his tired soul. Without a wife and with his mother long gone, Hyungwon knew time has come to find a proper husband for Soojung.

The job wasn’t too difficult when the bride is already blessed with both beauty and intelligence from her parents, gathering, in time, a long list of suitors waiting to come and negotiate the terms of a prosperous marriage with her father. Hyungwon, however, pities whoever will have to put up with his daughter’s caprices and nagging. At least Sooyoung understood his feelings as much as a woman like her was able to and never pestered him with trivialities he couldn’t care any less for. Sadly enough, out of all flaws Soojung could inherit from his part, it’s stubbornness that really stands out and is the root of Hyungwon’s grey hairs.

The infamous writer reluctantly asked his old friends for help with such an important mission and, fortunately, everyone gave him well-thought suggestions. Out of them all, Lee Jooheon, a fellow poet he’s known for many years, came with the most appropriate nominee in the shape of Lee Hoseok, one of his nephews he raised like his own child. Hoseok presents himself to be a hardworking ceramic artist and Hyungwon, as picky and pretentious as he is, still had to admit the younger man is quite talented at what he does. Negotiations last surprisingly short, both bride and groom accepting the terms set down by their elders and then settling a date for the great wedding.

After 45 years of living, Hyungwon was certain there’s nothing left for him to feel, nothing that could turn his world upside down. And then Lee Hoseok moved in as his son-in-law and _everything_ changed. Since he first laid eyes on the young artist, he felt like some sort of connection pulls them together, like Hoseok is meant to be part of his family and Hyungwon followed this instinct and cancelled all other suitor interviews after he’s met Hoseok. Soojung was also accepting the situation with an ease her father hadn’t thought she was capable of, taking care of the household in her mother’s place and cooking for both father and husband. Though if Hyungwon were to be completely honest, he had noticed a slight change in Soojung’s behavior ever since Sooyoung’s condition worsened so much she couldn’t get up from bed.

“They’re a beautiful couple,” Jooheon says, sipping from his tea elegantly like he wasn’t here just to check up on his nephew. Hyungwon keeps quiet, though a slight nod betrays his approval as he watches Hoseok take a break from working in the garden to enjoy the warm cup of tea his wife served him. Indeed, they are a beautiful couple. The only time Hyungwon accompanied them for a walk along the main street he couldn’t help but overhear all the envious and admirative whispers of the others. “How long until we have children running around here again?”

The question draws out a long sigh from the old writer, conveying just how much he’s looking forward to the larm and mess small children are capable of. He’s never liked them and he doubts holding a grandchild in his arms would elicit any emotion out of him if he barely felt something akin to compassion when his first and only born cried her way out into the world. But perhaps, since it would be Hoseok’s child, after all, he’ll get one more shock before he goes to join Sooyoung. A few times he caught himself wondering what his late wife would think of this marriage, if she’d approve of Hoseok and treat him like the son they never had. Her opinion doesn’t really matter in the end though, since Hyungwon has always been the one to have the final say in any decision.

“My friend,” Jooheon looks at the brunet with what Hyungwon can guess is empathy and maybe pity, but he doesn’t react in any way to show his annoyance and rather maintains his characteristic expressionless face. “I often ask myself how you can write so beautifully with a heart made out of ice.” Hyungwon’s heartlessness has received somewhat of a legendary status among elitists enjoying his pieces of literature and it’s certainly not the first time he hears such critique. It truly humors him at this point. Nonetheless, never one to pass the opportunity to outwit somebody, Hyungwon casually says as if he were talking about the weather, “I often ask myself too how somebody so frivolous with no poetic perspective can write lyrics, but I suppose our talents have nothing to do with our personalities.”

Jooheon’s visits have lessened from then on, but Hyungwon isn’t bothered in the least, not like he suffers from lack of company when Hoseok is there by his side almost every step he takes. The young crafter has progressively sneaked his way under Hyungwon’s skin, first by confessing his love for his father-in-law’s masterpieces, complimenting his style and metaphors. Then he brought soju for the two of them to share until Soojung was done with dinner. Following all their conversations about everything under the sun from politics to European art or similarities between Buddhism and Confucianism, Hyungwon is not surprised when Hoseok makes a habit of barging into his office uninvited while he’s writing and unceremoniously occupying the seat next to him.

But others don’t take it so kindly. His daughter, who was taught since before she could stand on her own two feet not to disturb her father when he’s working in that room, almost drops her tray when she sees the door open and Hoseok lounging on the floor, reading some manuscript quietly while Hyungwon’s still writing on his new novel. “Hoseok, you’re disturbing my father,” Soojung hisses through clenched teeth before proceeding to pour Hyungwon a cup of tea. Eyes still fixed on the papers in front of his eyes, the oldest Chae can’t stop himself from smirking when the other male speaks up casually. “You’re the one who’s bothering Hyungwon-nim.” That was the final test and being able to stand up to Soojung made Hoseok the ideal son-in-law for Hyungwon.

Eventually, his friend got over their little dispute and visited them again seeing as their families will be truly joint since Hyungwon didn’t manage to avoid this escapeless fate. “I told you, there will be children running around in no time,” Jooheon grins bringing up his glass of soju to his lips. Hyungwon does too, a slight tremble in his arm letting on not only his old age but also his anger towards this issue. Of course, when Soojung and Hoseok went through with the ceremony, he knew this is the future that awaits him (in the happiest of cases where his daughter’s husband doesn’t turn out to be a bastard who would steal everything he worked for). “Hyungwon-ssi,” the other man’s voice, hoarse and filled with concern, brings him back from memory lane. “I came here to warn you.”

A warning is not something he receives frequently, though there is a concerningly growing pile of unread letters lying on his desk regarding censorship on his works. The past few years under Japanese rule have been particularly hard for autochthon writers, but that didn’t discourage Hyungwon one bit. He had Hoseok to thank for that, his son-in-law being kind enough to support him by constantly reading new texts, offering ideas and pointing out places where there’s still work to do - truthfully, Hoseok’s feedback mostly contains just unadulterated praise and admiration and Hyungwon would be lying if he said it didn’t make him warm inside. It was a new method he hadn’t experimented with until now, mostly because nobody could truly understand him before.

For a stoic man like himself, Hyungwon catches himself feeling many things lately and it makes him question his sanity. Or better yet, his senility, although he has to admit losing his grip on reality has its perks. His new novel seems to be his best work as of yet but the text might be considered too controversial for the times they’re living. Still, Hoseok encouraged him to go ahead and publish what he worked so hard on. “I’ve heard they don’t like it, you know who I’m talking about.” Jooheon’s words are more vague than his love poems but Hyungwon is smart enough to catch on every implication. “Watch your back, that’s all I can say.” They both take another sip from their drinks.

“I’m not afraid,” Hyungwon replies quietly but firmly and his eyes shift towards his daughter’s protruding stomach and Hoseok decorating one of his new vases beside her. Something about this image makes him feel powerful, like the pieces that make up the puzzle that is his life are already in place and all he has to do is make sure nobody disturbs this ambience. “A stranger would think he is your son and she’s your in-law,” Jooheon chuckles amused at the way his friend watches the young couple and scoffs. For once, Hyungwon fully agreed on something with Jooheon, but he couldn’t understand why he cared more for an unrelated person than for his own blood?

Even after Hyungwon’s book is finished and out for everyone to read, Hoseok still spends most of his nights in his father-in-law’s office, reading whatever he could, searching for inspiration or just relaxing. The room has quickly become his favorite in the whole house and he’d seek refuge here when nights were too long and sleep too short. His mind was troubled by millions of questions in moments like this, concerning Soojung and the baby, concerning his art, concerning Hyungwon. Although he’s aware just how bad this looks, he is most interested in the latter. There’s just something about that old man that fascinates him, it’s as if every cell in his body screams at him to spend more time together, to try and discover other sides the writer hides from everybody else.

In the morning, he often cursed his habit of waiting for the sun to rise, along with Soojung’s nagging about him sleeping too much and starting to resemble her father - if she paid more attention to her husband, she’d see Hoseok would actually take that as a compliment. Tonight, however, he never felt more grateful towards his insomnia when he’s welcomed by the smell of fire and heavy, thick smoke invading their house as soon as he steps out of his in-law’s office and onto the hallway. His first instinct is to run and check on Hyungwon before everything burns down to the ground and they are trapped in a living hell. And good thing he did, considering just how deep the writer sleeps that even the havoc around them doesn’t stir him awake.

Hyungwon does open his eyes by the time Hoseok reaches the main door, languidly blinking at the handsome face that greets him. He feels assaulted and his drowsy mind is slow to acknowledge the fire blazing up behind them and how Hoseok just saved his life. _Watch your back_ , Jooheon’s words resound in his mind loud and clear. And then, completely uncharacteristically he gasps, “Soojung.” Hoseok’s eyes widen full of guilt as he puts the elder down on the grass and returns to the cage of burning wooden columns. Hyungwon looks at the artist’s broad back, watches it disappear in flames as his heart suddenly starts aching. _This is it_ , he thinks, grabbing at his left pectoral. It was time for him to join Sooyoung and let go of this existence.

The pain becomes unbearable and he collapses on his knees, fists biting into the dirt beneath his palms as tears start falling from his eyes and when Soojung returns, coughing and barely standing up from all that smoke she inhaled, she doesn’t have to say Hoseok didn’t make it back. Because Hyungwon already knows.

 

 ***

 

_Driven by lust or stung by the arrow of love, one cannot escape Aphrodite’s winged son. Eros, perhaps the most wanted of them all, is blind to all that surrounds him and often his target leads to a string of unfortunate events..._

  
...the smell of chlorine and septic is so familiar to Hyungsoon she doesn’t even flinch anymore when she clocks in at the local clinic. The other nurses greet her without paying much mind as she goes to the lockers to change into her uniform, the white dress almost entirely covering her long legs and stopping just a bit above her ankles. She already knows what to expect from this night shift, drunk men collected off the streets, juveniles hospitalized after getting in trouble with some local gang and so on.

There’s not much to worry about when they’re living during peaceful times, unlike her childhood when she kept waiting for her father to come home from the Great War only to receive the American flag as an answer. Ever since that cloudy day, Hyungsoon promised herself to help the wounded thinking that, perhaps, if there would have been somebody to care for her father then she wouldn’t have become an orphan. And if she can prevent one child from experiencing that, then she’ll do all that stays in her powers to accomplish just that.

The night is quiet just like her previous shift and before she knows it, Hyungsoon is free to go far away from the annoying doctor who keeps asking her out despite her vehement and unchangeable rejection. “Seriously Dodo, you’re such a heartbreaker. Why don’t you just accept his invitation? It could be your chance to stop working and settle down.” Hyungsoon stares with a blank face at her colleague, her ice princess mask in check as she refuses such a scenario. She is no damsel in distress who needs saving from this cruel world and she’s definitely no future housewife of any doctor either. If she were to be completely honest, she’d rather _be_ a doctor than _date_ one. A relationship is something Hyungsoon’s not looking for, no matter how many times her mother reminds her she’s not going to be this ‘young and beautiful’ forever.

The brunette is still fuming on her way home, scandalized by the other girl’s misogynist opinion as well as a fourth attempt that week from doctor Song Gunhee to grab a coffee together. However, she’s snapped out of her infuriated thoughts when she steps into a small pool of blood. Hyungsoon’s eyes widen, slowly coming to the realization she’s taken the wrong route home and ended up on one of the vilified streets of Chicago. And true to its ill spoken reputation, gunshots echo down the street, not very far from her position. Fearing for her life and integrity, the nurse quickly turns around prepared to start running but she bumps into a thug, whose shameless smirk tells her exactly what he’s thinking about. “What’s a pretteh lady like you doin’ her’?”

Raised the way she’s been, Hyungsoon knew that when faced with such a situation she has to hit hard and scream for help, but her vocal strings appear to have constricted, not allowing even a gasp of air to come out while her entire muscularity turned rigid. The young woman, although paralyzed with horror, still flinches when the street rat reaches out to tuck a stray hair so unfitting of her kempt look behind her ear. “Wha’d ya say, sugar?” The yellow teeth greeting Hyungsoon turn her stomach upside down and there are tears threatening to spill from the corners of her eyes.

The gunshots are getting closer and for once Hyungsoon wishes she’d have accepted doctor Song’s invitation for a cup of coffee. She wishes she were a bit more like her other coworkers instead of getting stubborn and pushing her independent woman agenda in everyone’s faces. But isn’t it better to die knowing you lived the life you wanted to than to have regrets for the rest of your days? However, before the disgusting man even gets the chance to lay another finger on her, he stumbles a few feet away from a powerful punch. The brunette finally finds it in herself to exhale loudly, as her eyes shift towards her savior’s shadow.

“I’m pretty sure these aren’t the streets you usually rot on, so I suggest you nicely to leave,” the blond hero says, eyes cold and unforgiving as he scrutinizes the other man. He seems so collected and certainly dangerous, yet the medical attendant in Hyungsoon notices how uneven his breathing actually is, how he leans his weight more on one leg, and how there’s a little blood trickling down his temple. Now it was the perfect occasion for Hyungsoon to run away, both gangsters busy with some sort of eyelock challenge, but she doesn’t, her sudden fascination with the man in front of her preventing any attempt to escape. And once again she finds herself wishing she’d have stepped on her pride and values this morning when a real shotgun is pointed at her head.

What a horrible situation that even Song Gunhee’s face can be deemed more pleasant. It’s the first time she sees a real gun, but she doesn’t get to look at it for too long when a strong arm pulls her close and the blond hero shields her with his body. The abrupt move makes her breath hitch and she wants to shout at him, scold him for being this reckless but the now familiar sound of the trigger being pulled shuts her up completely. The rat who dared threaten her in such barbaric way finds his end, nonetheless, a bullet going right through his skull and finding a nest in his pretty empty head. “Are you alright?” the blond man turns around to face a shaken Hyungsoon as he hides his M1911 pistol back in his gun harness.

The brunette simply nods, although she most definitely wasn’t alright. Who would be if their life would be threatened in such early hours of the morning? But her mind ignores her own discomfort when she observes the blond’s own. “Y-you’re hurt,” Hyungsoon stutters out and her hand reaches up involuntarily to touch the man’s cheekbone right under a cut she hasn’t seen until now. “We need to take you to the hospital, now!” With an astounding courage bursting out of nowhere, she suddenly grabs the other’s hand and tries to pull him back into the direction of the clinic she left less than an hour ago, but he won’t budge.

“No, no, cherrie. The hospital is not a good place for people like me, too many hounds around, you see?” Her eyebrow twitches when the man says such imbecility but he does have a point, as much as she hates to admit it. But the medic in her is dying to help and she’d overstep her values again if she’d leave a man bleeding and hurt on the street, not to mention he just saved her life by taking another. That little detail gives her shivers, and perhaps idiocy is contagious, otherwise, Hyungsoon can’t explain at all why her next words are not so carefully chosen but blurted out. “Then come with me, I’m a nurse. I can treat you.”

The man laughs heartfeltly, his whole body shaking and eyes crinkling up cutely - the best word to describe a person who just killed somebody in Hyungsoon’s opinion, but is she still entitled to one after such a dumb move? Either way, the two walk close to one another as the brunette finally figures out the right path home, and her heart keeps beating faster than it could be considered healthy as her savior steps on her threshold. For a second she wonders if today’s experience could count as trauma which would explain her offbeat behaviour, yet the rational part in Hyungsoon is very much aware that handsome smile is more at fault than any other fire weapon.

In every aspect, Hyungsoon is a lady and her mother and step-father raised her as such. She knows how to act properly in society and all that is expected from a young woman her age, moreover, she agrees with it completely, except for the marriage part. “Dodo, you’re already 22, when are you going to introduce me to a suitor?” Her mother often asks whenever she drops by to bring her food right after scolding her about how all women should be able to cook deliciously by this age. Maybe that was the first sign she’s a screw loose, but if it weren’t clear before, then inviting a stranger into her own house disregarding all the danger signals certainly points at it.

However, she should have given the thug more credit when she finds him in the same place she left him, sitting on her couch but without his jacket on. She doesn’t fail to notice how his gun is missing from his holder and sits nicely on her coffee table, as if the blond was trying to convince her he’s actually a nice guy. Hyungsoon treats his wounds gently, cleaning up the blood and dust, applying abstergent and wrapping up what had to be bandaged. She tries not to ogle the man’s well-built chest and abdomen too much, yet her eyes (traitors!) seem to have a mind of their own. She, of course, blames it all on not having seen any man this up close and definitely not a handsome one.

“Wonho,” he suddenly says to which Hyungsoon replies, intelligence overflowing, with a dumb ‘huh’. Luckily, the man in front of her just smirks amused and repeats himself, being a bit more explicit. “I’m Wonho. I think I should at least introduce myself after your kind offer.” _Kind offer_. For no apparent reason, Hyungsoon blushes softly and just as sweetly as the smile Wonho is showing her. She’s used to having men interested in her from a young age, but absolutely no one struck her like this, no lad made her feel things she could not explain or act stupid. And she never wanted to kiss somebody more than she wanted to kiss Wonho. “H-hyungsoon,” she stutters out before handing him his no longer white shirt back and the man proceeds to get dressed. “Thank you for saving my life,” the brunette whispers shyly while leading Wonho to her door.

The blond stops for a second, gives her this brilliant smile and then simply says, “Anytime.”

For the following days, Hyungsoon almost expects burglars and thugs to break into her house and rob or kidnap her, but of course, none of that happens. It makes her think though, long and hard about that blond hero of hers, her knight in shining armour whom she desperately wants to meet again. If she were in her right mind, Hyungsoon would chide herself for acting like a brainwashed idiot and taking into consideration horrifying scenarios, such as venturing in those parts of Chicago again. Luckily, she doesn’t have to when at the end of the week, as she clocks in for another night shift, her colleague Yeojoo gives her this shit-eating grin from ear to ear before handing her a big rose bouquet carefully. “So all this time you have refused doctor Song because you’re already seeing someone. Dodo, why haven’t you told us you have such a handsome boyfriend?”

It takes her longer than it should to figure out they’re actually from Wonho, for once the nickname actually fitting to how slowly she processes this occurrence. Hyungsoon stares at the bouquet with awe for its beauty, the flowers looking so elegant and fresh. _It must have cost a fortune_ , she thinks and this elicits another string of thoughts. Did Wonho actually buy the roses or did he threaten the florist with his pistol? The episode repeats itself for a whole two weeks until Hyungsoon’s apartment is full of flowers and she’s tired of the other nurses’ attempts to interrogate her about the latest gossip - her relationship with Wonho. At first, Hyungsoon tried to deny it and say the truth - she barely knew Wonho but he is a (grateful) patient she took care of.

Yeojoo and Minji buy none of it, yet stop eventually with their inquiries and so does doctor Song, with his obnoxious invitations finally coming to an abrupt stop. Something keeps bothering her though and it’s not the expectant looks from her co-workers, hovering over her like prey birds and waiting until they eye her supposed boyfriend before they attack again. It’s the mere fact Wonho hasn’t got the guts to face her properly and keeps hiding behind these small attentions. Her prayers are answered one morning when the same blond that never left her mind awaits for her in front of the clinic, face brightening up as soon as he notices Hyungsoon’s carrying the flowers in her arms.

And that smile was enough.

It has been enough for years on end, Wonho’s happiness slowly turning into Hyungsoon’s number one priority and changing her life for the better or the worse. Certain aspects of her life improved for sure when she finally discovered the joy of cooking dinner for your man, the romanticism in having your boyfriend pick you up from work and take you on fancy dates, the overall content of loving and giving yourself to somebody in all aspects. There are many downsides to dating a mobster, but each day she wakes up in Wonho’s loving embrace, Hyungsoon swears it’s worth all the pain. But just a moment later she sighs disappointed that the sun rose again and they have to part ways and so she desperately tries to cling on to the blond’s warmth just a bit more, hiding at his chest and never wanting to let go.

And then, there are the horrible times when she’s left alone for days with no way of knowing whether her lover is still alive or not, when not even wearing his shirt to sleep helps calm her nerves and when she checks the E.R. religiously, hoping the new case isn’t her guardian angel. The weight of a ring gives her hope though and, indeed, Wonho always returns, tousled up and barely resembling his handsome self behind all the dirt and blood, but in one piece as he promised, ready to wipe Hyungsoon’s tears as she hugs him tightly. “Princess, you know I’ll always come back to you.”

His word is the most important for a gangster like Wonho and he always makes sure to keep it and fulfil each and every promise he makes throughout his life. Therefore, the second he finds out his beautiful Dodo has been kidnapped after she finished her shift at the local clinic, he throws every other job out the window and hunts down the miserable scumbags, set on ending their lives. This is what he feared the most and the sole reason he’s considered quitting the mafia and starting a new life together with his fiancee in a far away city or perhaps even land. The idea is even more present in his head ever since Hyungsoon told him they’re expecting a child. However, one does not simply quit the mafia, not without some sacrifices, not without dying.

Love is blindness, wrapping up a cloth as dark as the night over our eyes and taking away any sense of ration, leaving us incoherent, irresponsible, and reckless. That night, love is the one pushing Wonho into rushing to Hyungsoon’s rescue with no plan whatsoever and just a handful of men, despite knowing full-well they’re dealing with a dangerous gang of misfits who overstepped their territory one too many times. But perhaps love is not the only one to blame, not when fate has such a complicated relationship with chaos and tragedy, and all three seem to follow the couple until the end of time.

It happens so fast, Wonho’s mind barely registers anything from when he pulls his rifle out with the intention to shoot down as many enemies as possible and to the moment Hyungsoon, materializing out of thin air, starts running towards him and gets hit by one of his bullets. The scene is displayed in slow motion, but Wonho believes the whole world stood still while he holds his breath. She falls into his arms, barely alive, choking on tears and her own blood as she tries to look at his beautiful smile she adores for the last time. “H-hoseok,” she calls out, fear dropping off each syllable. “I don’t w-want to die.”

“I won’t let you die, my love,” Wonho answers gently, holding her close and he’s crying just as much as she is in these last moments together because they both know he can’t keep his word. He curses anyone who’s watching from above for putting them through this endless cycle of misery, for letting their child die before even seeing the light of day, for ripping Hyungsoon once more from his embrace. “I’ll always come back to you, don’t you ever forget it.” And Hyungsoon knows that’s true because they’ve met five times already and there’s no way they won’t meet again. Maybe in another lifetime, they’ll have the chance.

 

***

 

_Sometimes, all it takes is to be at the right time in the right place. With Pragma, everything clicks and you find yourself staring at a mirror, your soul reflected in another’s body, a long lost part of yourself is finally where it belongs - you’re whole once more…_

 

...he’s seen him before somewhere, but Hoseok can’t pinpoint exactly where. He’s filled by such frustration, he ends up not paying any amount of attention to his friends or the girl clinging to his neck and trying to grind her backside against his crotch. His mind is solely focused on those plump lips, that stylish dyed hair and those big eyes framed by long lashes. And then his gaze lowers to a small but perky ass that reminds him just how bisexual he actually is and even lower to legs worthy of modeling. And then the coin drops in his mind and he remembers a particular magazine cover he’s come across last week and he slowly realizes the boy is that _model_.

“Sorry,” he says pushing the girl off him gently, forgetting for a minute that they’re supposed to be dating as he makes his way towards the blond. Would he be insulted if Hoseok straight up hit on him in the least straight of ways? After all, they are in a _gay-bar_ , the most popular one at that in Seoul and somebody as pretty as that model cannot be heterosexual. One more deep breath and one last step and he’s now facing that beautiful boy and, _fuck_ , he should have thought about something smart to say before he approached him because now the taller hovers above him expectantly and Hoseok’s tongue is all but tied up in knots. “Can I buy you a drink?”

The blond hesitates a little, gives Hoseok a once over as though he’s considering whether or not the one in front of him deserves to be graced with his presence. And then he nods. Two Aperol Spritz later, Hoseok and Hyungwon - as the model’s name was revealed to be - are exchanging phone numbers, smiles wide and giggles loud as the younger pulls the ulzzang onto the dance floor, challenging him to a rally. “Show me what you got, _hyung_.” The word or perhaps just Hyungwon’s smirk gives Hoseok goosebumps along his forearm as he grips the tiny waist only a model could possess tightly and then pulls the blond flush against him. He thanks the uneven number of shots taken as a warm up with his friends before he delivers Hyungwon exactly what he asked for, a shameless show of body rolls and hip thrusts and sensual touches.

It’s a haze, blurred by disco lights and lasers and some weak EDM remix on the background neither bother to identify although they could. Hoseok remembers staring at those rosy inviting lips much longer than he should, waiting for the right moment to taste them like he wanted, and when Hyungwon rests his palm on the back of his neck to bring him closer, Hoseok closes in the distance. A peck at first then growing into something more. At a point they’re backed off so far away from the other clubbers that Hoseok has Hyungwon pressed against a wall, mouths feverishly searching each other and hands travelling up and down heated bodies.

Hyungwon is such a good kisser, tongue curling in Hoseok’s mouth, fingers pulling harshly at the ulzzang’s black locks and lips soft and sweet making the other wonder how they’d feel wrapped around his cock. Hyungwon is so _beautiful_ , Hoseok cannot stress it enough and in the dim lighting of the club he looks like a fallen angel meant to lure him to his demise. “I have to go,” the blond gasps, hands pushing at Hoseok’s shoulder as his neck is under siege, victim of nibs and kisses and small bites. The older is insistent though and doesn’t pull away until there’s a mark behind to remind Hyungwon of him later when he looks in a mirror.

“Stay a bit more,” Hoseok whines, strong arms trying to cage Hyungwon in and keep him right there with him. It works just a little bit when the tall one cups his cheek again and leans in to bite his lower lip playfully. Hoseok sports a very uncomfortable boner by this point, suddenly feeling like a virgin again, unexperienced and awkward and trying to dry hump anything with legs and Hyungwon palming his crotch doesn’t help the situation one bit. “I really have to go, _hyung_. But call me and we’ll see, yeah?” he breathes out against Hoseok’s trembling lips, fingers curling around his clothed erection very much willing to take responsibility for it, but he’s got a photoshooting early in the morning and he can’t afford to be late.

A couple of days and a breakup later, Hoseok and Hyungwon manage to meet again after spending every breathing moment texting each other. This time both of them are sober and implicitly more shy about their attraction, but the chemistry is undeniably still there at midnoon in a chic cafe from Seoul. They keep it simple, talk about hobbies, friends, their plans for the future, enthusiasm bursting in their chests as they find a common haven in dancing and music. “I’m a trainee actually,” Hyungwon admits shyly, soft pink dusting his cheeks before he grabs his americano to keep his mouth busy. Hoseok licks his lips. He’s thirsty, but not for coffee. “I started a few months ago.”

“I’ll be your biggest fanboy once you debut,” he confesses with all the earnestness he can muster but only gets loud laughter in return and an adorable smile. He could honestly record it and put it as his morning alarm just to wake up every day with a smile on and lust for life, but he pushes such sappy thoughts away. He doesn’t want to scare Hyungwon with his weird romanticism, nor give the impression he’s a future sasaeng who’ll devote all his woke moments to the model’s existence. “I’m trying real hard to be a dancer,” he comments off-handedly, enjoying how Hyungwon’s eyes sparkle at the notion.

This leads to them settling another meeting for a special dance session which, of course, ends up with the model straddling his hyung in the middle of a practice room while his mouth appears to be set on sucking the living soul out of Hoseok. And then he decides to suck something else, granting the black haired his first wish ever since they met: to know how those plushy lips feel around his length. And dear God, is it divine. The scenario keeps repeating itself. Hoseok ends up spending less time with his old friends, less time doing stupid shit that would make his mother cry if she knew, and more time dancing like that is his main purpose in life.

“You have everything it takes to become an idol, imagine if we would debut together,” Hyungwon says one night as they cram into Hoseok’s small bed, his cheek resting against the older’s arm, almost fawning on him. Hoseok imagines it and he can envision it clearly. Still recovering from the intense experience they just had for the first time, the dancer’s mind puts up together a slideshow. He sees the two of them having lunch with some other guys, three or five or even ten, but it doesn’t matter because they’re sitting together in a corner and talking about whatever, happiness stretching their faces into big smiles and making their eyes glow. He sees them still dancing together, enjoying what they like most besides each other, making it big together and sharing the sweet taste of success.

In just a week, Hoseok convinces his mom to pay for his vocal training after he passes auditions at Starship Entertainment, the same company Hyungwon got in less than half a year ago. Being a trainee turns out to be much harsher than he ever expected, from diets and tough schedules to letting stylists experiment on his hair and broken promises of a fast approaching debut. It made Hoseok doubt he’ll ever be able to really become an idol and if he did then whether or not it would truly be worth the whole calvary. Then suddenly they pushed a new boy group called Nu’boyz and he was selected as one of the two vocals and no matter how many times he looked at the formal notice, the number didn’t change nor did Hyungwon’s name appear on paper beside his own.

“You’ll soon forget about me when you get famous,” the now brown haired joked the night of the announcement and Hoseok (named from now on ‘Shino’) spent every second until the sun was up proving Hyungwon just how wrong he was and upsetting quite a few trainees in the process by making too much noise in the dorm. But the weight of every chore passed on to them was incomparable when put in balance with the satisfaction on Hyungwon’s face, the arch of his back, the needy movement of his hips against Hoseok’s. And still pales in contrast with the sigh Hyungwon lets out when their needs are sated, dragging Hoseok’s own heart down with uncertainty. They never talked about it and while actions speak louder than words, Hoseok would still appreciate some reassurance that what they have is real.

As days move on, Hoseok slowly realizes just how complicated their situation actually is and how debuting in different groups or on his own would probably break whatever their relationship may be called into tiny pieces. Once again he’s faced with the same question: is it worth it? The answer comes faster this time: not without Hyungwon. So when the Nu’boyz project is cancelled as well, Hoseok’s the only one embracing the comfort of relief instead of sore frustration. However, Starship had one more trick under their sleeve: a survival show. Twelve trainees were picked this time around and the dancer almost hugged the producer when Hyungwon was selected as well.

His out of the ordinary excitement dies soon though. Whoever entitled the show No mercy must have been a sadist who enjoys tormenting and seeing others struggle. And despite their suspicions that the final members are already selected by simply analyzing each other’s screen time, the pressure of finally debuting made all of them turn into senseless messes. Hoseok, once again rebranded as ‘Wonho’, cracked right after the first mission, failing to put up the performance he had in mind as he was overwhelmed by a nervousness that just won’t leave him alone. It took Hyungwon’s herculean efforts to make him climb out of the self-pity hole he dug for himself afterwards and return with strong forces on stage.

Their second task was even harder and while Wonho understood that this show must keep its merciless look, was it really necessary for them to pair him against his beloved? Their relationship was no secret to anyone from dormmates to Starship staff with access to private information on trainees so the visual doubts the choice was random. “They want to see what we’re willing to sacrifice for the sake of debut,” Hyungwon mumbles while they practice their choreo. It feels good to be able to dance together like this again, their choreography allowing their personal colors to shine and, more importantly, putting the spotlight right on Hyungwon’s skills. The results are obvious and as soon as the cameras are off and Hoseok is safe (at least for now) from elimination, Hyungwon gives him his coldest glare. “You let me win.”

“I-..what?” Hoseok replies quietly, aware his intentions have been discovered.

“Do you really think I stand no chance against you? If so, you can fuck off right now, Hoseok. I don’t need your help to win a spot in this band and if you can’t understand that I want nothing to do with you.” Hyungwon’s tirade ends abruptly as he turns his back towards his lover for the rest of the show. The producers also appear to have made up their mind and from that moment on never allow the two to be on the same team until the very end - another test, pushing them against each other and honestly fucking Wonho up. He’s become too dependent on Hyungwon, gravitating like a moon around the former model and forgetting his priorities.

It’s a splash of icy water he very much needed to get back on track, he can’t afford to play with his chance like this, to risk everything for the sake of love, not when his mother broke her back just to pay for his trainee expenses. _He has to debut._

So he works hard, harder than ever before, sacrificing the little time he got in order to practice, to work out or to take care of his team’s music. The burden of being chosen leader tears him up little by little and he wishes Hyungwon would at least climb down from his bunk bed in the nights he cries himself to sleep. But the brown haired is as cold as ever, not even sparing him a glance unless they were filmed. At least not until they lose Minkyun and Hoseok can’t hold back anymore, reaching for Hyungwon and embracing him with all he got, relieved that they’re both still in the game but also heartsore over another trainee leaving. In the midst of this  love-centered drama he’s going through, every elimination turns out to be harsher than he expected as he realizes those guys are not just his rivals, but also his friends.

They start talking again - about the new trainee introduced so late in the competition, about their friends who already left the dorm, about music but always careful not to divulge what their teams are working on, always on edge not to slip up some vital information. Hoseok hates it. He hates the show, the producers, he hates himself for letting the one good thing in his life hang by a thread. He still cares so deeply for Hyungwon it keeps him up at night and drives him mad with worry, especially since the other visual is careful to pay attention to him but never as much as the older wanted.

On the night before their final mission, no one is able to sleep so Minhyuk gathers everyone in the living room. “This is the last time we’re all together here,” he says, hiding all the mixed emotions bubbled up inside him behind a cheerful smile. Hoseok empathizes with him, having to bite his lip to keep his tears at bay, knees brought up to his chest and face hidden from the others. He feels somebody occupying the seat beside him and then a hand lightly pats his back. It’s warm and he wants to lean in to the gentle touch, wants to bathe in any source of comfort he can get, most of all when he turns his head slightly and sees Hyungwon.

“Hey…” His voice is soft and tired, his hair is dyed a lighter shade of brown and his eyes betray all the things he can’t bring himself to say. Hoseok inches closer until their hips and shoulders are touching, and he doesn’t dare to look away from the younger. Like Minhyuk said, it might be the last time they see each other.  “Tomorrow…” Hyungwon starts, carefully choosing his words like he always does and Hoseok both hates and loves this rational side of him. “No matter what, do your best. Whether we debut together or not, that doesn’t matter. Just make sure to leave behind your best performance.”

Hoseok gulps down the disappointment constricting his ribcage. Of course, what else should he have expected from the other? Finally breaking free from the spell cast by those deep sleepy eyes, he looks around the room. Jooheon and Gunhee are making jokes trying to lighten up the mood and even getting the new guy to smile, Yoonho and Minhyuk and cuddling on the couch while Kihyun is bickering with both, Seokwon and Shownu are quietly observing everyone. Hyungwon rests his head on Hoseok’s shoulder and suddenly, the dancer can breathe freely. It’s going to be alright, whether they debut or not, whether they make it together or on their own. It’s going to be alright as long as he can hold Hyungwon’s hand.

 

...and when their names are shouted one after the other, their eyes lock across the room, not quite smiling when they know they’re about to lose two friends for good, but they’re nevertheless happy. Their fates are intertwined and at long last, no one needs to die for them to know.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun facts:  
> >The ancient Greeks distinguished 7 types of love: agape, eros, ludus, philia, philautia, pragma, storge. I tried to display all of them in each life.  
> >The chronological order of the 7 lives are: 4, 1, 5, 6, 3, 2,7  
> >The second life is inspired by Sid Vicious and Nancy’s love story.  
> >In the third life, Hyungwon died of aids in the late ‘50s. He was about 30 and he got the disease from unprotected sex. Seohyun knew about Hyungwon because Hoseok talks in his sleep (as an effect of PTSD).  
> >The Lee men in the fourth life are indeed Minhyuk and Jooheon, while Shownu, Kihyun and Changkyun are Hyungwon’s knights. Wonho is charged of Hyungwon's murder and sentenced to death by the duchess, the one who's actually responsible for it.  
> >In the fifth life, Hoseok’s death ruined Hyungwon and he never touched a pen or a book again - all ceramic objects were prohibited from his house. His daughter hardly manages to recover from the shock that sends her into labor. Hyungwon is overwhelmed again and devotes the rest of his life to raising his grandson, who holds his hand as he takes his last breath.  
> >In the sixth life, Wonho and his men go on a rampage, he kills all the present members of the rival gang who kidnapped Hyungsoon. A few months later he shoots himself, unable to cope with the fact that his gun killed his fiance.  
> >We all know how the last life turns out.


End file.
